Review
This album reminds me of those hazy afternoons in my dorm room, curtains drawn against the autumn light, when everything felt both urgent and suspended in time. "Blind" arrived in 1992 carrying the weight of sophomore expectations, but The Sundays transformed that pressure into something beautifully contemplative. Harriet Wheeler's voice floats through these twelve tracks like cigarette smoke in a coffee shop, while David Gavurin's guitar work creates these gorgeous, shimmering walls of sound that feel both comforting and melancholic. The 45-minute journey takes you through emotional territories that their debut only hinted at—this is The Sundays with their guard down, unafraid to explore the shadows.
What strikes me most about this record is how it might have been received differently if it had emerged in, say, 1985 alongside the Cocteau Twins' peak output, or perhaps in 1997 when Radiohead was reshaping alternative music. Songs like "Goodbye" and "Love" showcase a band that had found their stride, no longer content with just being charming—they wanted to break your heart a little too. The dream pop elements feel less accidental here and more intentional, creating this cocoon of sound that peaked at No. 15 on the UK charts but deserved to live in bedrooms and late-night drives for decades to come. Even that bonus track "Wild Horses" feels like a secret whispered at the end of a long conversation you never wanted to end. - Daphne
